Disclaimer: Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.
Colorless"Hehe…he…he…"
"No way! That is SO not what I said!"
"It is too!"
"God! You think you're so cool? Well you're just a slut!"
"WHAT?"
"Hehehe…"
Arisa rolled her eyes as she trudged through the front door of her apartment. The toe of her shoe ran into a garbage bag filled to the brim with trash. She sighed heavily. The entrance barely had room for her to squeeze around and close the door behind her.
"Dad, you forgot to take out the trash again!"
"Go away! Quit your yappin'!"
Arisa bit her bottom lip to keep from yelling at him. "God, go get yourself a real job, you lazy ass," she muttered, swerving her way around and through the bags of garbage. She slinked through the small hallway, which was boring and empty for all but the dust that was piling high on the ground. She passed her dad who was lying on the couch, completely drunk and laughing senselessly at some teen drama show. Arisa felt the urge to go punch some sense into him, but she stopped.
Arisa ripped off her mask, breathing the stale air through her mouth. She slipped the mask into a pocket of her long jacket and turned into the kitchen to make herself dinner.
There was nothing.
Sighing heavily, she turned around and saw a few yen on the table. Without a seconds hesitation she picked it up and stuffed it in her pocket. She collapsed into a chair and brought out a cigarette. She lit it and began to puff away frantically.
This was her life.
Her bland, boring, pathetic life.
And ever since she met that girl in the hallway, she couldn't stop thinking about it.
"Hey! Do I smell smoke?" called a slurred voice from the living room.
"No!" Arisa lied, who continued to puff away. "Go to sleep!"
He seemed to listen to her orders, because a few seconds later she began to hear snoring from the living room. Disgusted, she stood up and ground her cigarette in the table. She left it there, ignoring the burn mark on the surface.
She ran to her room and shut the door behind her. It was just like the rest of the house. Empty, except for the garbage that cluttered it here and there. Arisa barely spent time in this house anyway.
She grabbed another pack of cigarettes from her bed and slipped out her door. She trudged through the hallway and made her way out the front door.
Outside, she slipped the mask on again, cracking her knuckles together.
What was she going to do now? Rob a store? Shoplift? Beat someone up? Or just hang out with her gang and smoke? Arisa didn't know. Arisa didn't care.
Her life was colorless.